Maidhc O Casain
Na Bith Mo Riocht Tá!
"Excellent, excellent! You simply have no idea how much this will mean to the people of Haatse! Well, then, if you'll follow me I've some horses in the stable for those of you who don't have one . . ."
On the way out to the stable Jocyn turns to Kalgor. "I'm afraid we have no list of the items originally interred with Ekat Haatse, but as the curse applies only to what was actually placed with his body it should be easy for such professionals as yourselves to discern."
And with these words you find yourselves at the stables.
~~~~~~~~~~
The next two days pass in a blur. The weather is pleasant, though it begins to turn cold as you ride up into the lower reaches of the mountains of the Baronies. Jocyn proves to be pleasant company, a wealth of entertaining stories and songs accumulated over a long lifetime as an entertainer. You are unmolested by local flora or fauna and make the trip to Haatse in good time.
Once in town you're greeted with a hero's welcome. Though the townsfolk are obviously worried by their situation and somewhat subdued they are also excited that you've come to take care of the situation. You're put up in the Seven Silvers, a comfortable 2 story inn run by Trelvar Silvers and his 12 year old daughter Asina. When you awake you're given an excellent breakfast, and asked to prepare yourselves for your ordeal. Everything has the feel of a ritual repeated often down through the years. In the Seven Silvers' taproom, Asina struggles mightily to overcome her obvious infatuation with the handsome Iosef and her fascination with the great black cat Gragnor. She gravely informs you that a part of the ritual is for the townsfolk to equip the 'adventurers' for their journey, and asks that you leave your packs and equipment - other than your arms and armor and any 'specialized equipment you may need' - in her care until you return.
[sblock=OOC]General adventuring equipment such as ropes, oil, rations, etc. should be left with Asina. You may hang onto more specialized gear such as that needed for your profession (spell component pouches, spell books, etc) and any magical gear such as potions, of course.[/sblock]
The bells atop the town temple toll their midday song, echoing throughout the quiet town of Haatse, as Asina escorts you through the empty streets to the town square. As the peals begin to fade, the first of the townsfolk make their way into the square, dressed in black, as if attending a funeral. They slowly fill the square, moving quietly across the cold, hard ground, their eyes downcast and mournful. A!er a few moments, a murmur passes through the crowd as it slowly parts to let Mayor Uptal through. He leads the way with a tarnished silver lantern. Behind him, an old pony drags a cart laden with backpacks and supplies.
Once he reaches the center of the crowd, Mayor Uptal stops and calls out to the assembled townsfolk. “Once again the winter winds blow through the Spoekjebosk Forest, marking the end of another harvest. There are wolves in the woods, howling at our walls, and serpents in our shadows, waiting to strike. Just as it was one hundred and seventy-four years ago, when Haatse himself left these walls to protect us, so it is today. Where are the heroes? Where are the brave folk that will venture out to Haatse’s tomb and retrieve the flame to keep this community safe for another winter?”
At this point, Mayor Uptal pauses and sends his searching gaze over the crowd. A sense of anticipation slowly builds as the town awaits the commitment of their brave saviors . . .
On the way out to the stable Jocyn turns to Kalgor. "I'm afraid we have no list of the items originally interred with Ekat Haatse, but as the curse applies only to what was actually placed with his body it should be easy for such professionals as yourselves to discern."
And with these words you find yourselves at the stables.
~~~~~~~~~~
The next two days pass in a blur. The weather is pleasant, though it begins to turn cold as you ride up into the lower reaches of the mountains of the Baronies. Jocyn proves to be pleasant company, a wealth of entertaining stories and songs accumulated over a long lifetime as an entertainer. You are unmolested by local flora or fauna and make the trip to Haatse in good time.
Once in town you're greeted with a hero's welcome. Though the townsfolk are obviously worried by their situation and somewhat subdued they are also excited that you've come to take care of the situation. You're put up in the Seven Silvers, a comfortable 2 story inn run by Trelvar Silvers and his 12 year old daughter Asina. When you awake you're given an excellent breakfast, and asked to prepare yourselves for your ordeal. Everything has the feel of a ritual repeated often down through the years. In the Seven Silvers' taproom, Asina struggles mightily to overcome her obvious infatuation with the handsome Iosef and her fascination with the great black cat Gragnor. She gravely informs you that a part of the ritual is for the townsfolk to equip the 'adventurers' for their journey, and asks that you leave your packs and equipment - other than your arms and armor and any 'specialized equipment you may need' - in her care until you return.
[sblock=OOC]General adventuring equipment such as ropes, oil, rations, etc. should be left with Asina. You may hang onto more specialized gear such as that needed for your profession (spell component pouches, spell books, etc) and any magical gear such as potions, of course.[/sblock]
The bells atop the town temple toll their midday song, echoing throughout the quiet town of Haatse, as Asina escorts you through the empty streets to the town square. As the peals begin to fade, the first of the townsfolk make their way into the square, dressed in black, as if attending a funeral. They slowly fill the square, moving quietly across the cold, hard ground, their eyes downcast and mournful. A!er a few moments, a murmur passes through the crowd as it slowly parts to let Mayor Uptal through. He leads the way with a tarnished silver lantern. Behind him, an old pony drags a cart laden with backpacks and supplies.
Once he reaches the center of the crowd, Mayor Uptal stops and calls out to the assembled townsfolk. “Once again the winter winds blow through the Spoekjebosk Forest, marking the end of another harvest. There are wolves in the woods, howling at our walls, and serpents in our shadows, waiting to strike. Just as it was one hundred and seventy-four years ago, when Haatse himself left these walls to protect us, so it is today. Where are the heroes? Where are the brave folk that will venture out to Haatse’s tomb and retrieve the flame to keep this community safe for another winter?”
At this point, Mayor Uptal pauses and sends his searching gaze over the crowd. A sense of anticipation slowly builds as the town awaits the commitment of their brave saviors . . .
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